


"Mastur" Richter

by Goron_King_Darunia



Category: Tales of Symphonia: Dawn of the New World
Genre: Divergent plotlines, Implied Richter/Aster, M/M, Special Vore Route, Vore themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-17
Updated: 2015-01-17
Packaged: 2018-03-07 22:16:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3185213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goron_King_Darunia/pseuds/Goron_King_Darunia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Nope! That's not a typo! The title is spelled correctly. XD) </p><p>Richter has long been plagued with nightmares of Aster’s death, but lately… they've been distressing dreams of a different sort. Of himself with Emil in Aster's place, filling needs he's had for so long.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Mastur" Richter

**Author's Note:**

> I've actually had this done since November 23rd 2013, but I only showed it to a few choice people. Enough of that! It needs to be seen! After all, my Mind Twin was raving about it on Tumblr as soon as xe read it! Xe even went so far as to call me a goddess for writing it! 0w0 Haha, I dunno about that, but I hope you can all enjoy it at least HALF as much as my Mind Twin did.
> 
> Still... why the hell did I ever think divergent plotlines was a good idea?! 0_0 This is going to take forever to get done! But oh well. If enough of you like it, I'll certainly write more! Ugh, I really like this one but writing in present tense is unusual for me. I'm so used to past tense. 
> 
> The current plan involves three potential "normal" routes and one "secret" route for certain fans. XD I started on two of the routes but never finished. I'll have to keep working on them with everything else...
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

I must have gone crazy. Absolutely crazy... That's the only rational explanation I can come up with. It's the only possible reason behind these feelings. I've finally lost my mind. Oh, sure, I guess I saw it coming, saw the little signs. The weird dreams, rushes of adrenaline outside of battle, lapses in linear thought, and these inexplicable environmental triggers that send my mind spiraling into that void of doomed chaos.

I'm like a thermostat, stuck on one setting - ten thousand degrees of insanity - and there is no reset button. But I love it. Goddess help me, I loath it, but I  _love_  it. I can only think of one way to describe it. This must be what it feels like being impaled on a burning spear. If I leave it be, it will sear through my chest entirely, cauterize the wound, and leave me to die, slowly, painfully, with that void where my heart once was. If I pull it out, it will leave an equal ache in it's absence, spill my blood in one gush, and kill me in that instant after.

I must be a bloody masochist to say this, but... I feel  _alive_  as I writhe in this sweet agony. Aster... Please forgive me...

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Richter tosses and turns, stuck with a dream he'd rather be without. It's not that it's a  _bad_  dream; quite the contrary. It's one of the best dreams he's ever had. The only flaw is that it involves Emil, that cursedly beautiful boy. As if that isn't bad enough, it's a lucid, wet dream... It's been happening for weeks now, always the same plot. The blond would appear to him, in some state of undress, timid, innocent, completely unaware of how arousing his nakedness was, oblivious to being watched. Fabric would caress his form, slough off, reveal more of that unblemished flesh, until all of his smooth features were laid bare against a tapestry of night.

Richter would drift closer, guided by some unseen hand, until a breath or a rustle or some other unintentional sound revealed his presence. The boy would startle a moment, cover himself with his hands and a blush, cross his legs at the knees - all gestures much too effete - before he finally seemed to recognize Richter. He'd smile, shyly, slowly revealing himself once more, posture almost  _welcoming_  a sexual advance. "You... like what you see?" The blond would giggle, edging closer to the redhead. "You're welcome to  _experiment_  all you like." That invitation turned him on in so many ways. Of course, his subconscious self always accepts the offer. Positions varied, but more often than not, Richter would be on top.

Tonight, it's a blowjob, and it's  _unbearably_  hot. Just the blond's head, bobbing up and down between his legs, alternating between sucking and licking. The boy seems inexperienced, but Richter doesn't care, it just feels amazing anyway.  He runs his fingers through the soft hair in his lap, trying to hold everything in, the moans, the urge to thrust, and, most importantly, the heat pooling between his legs. The blond seems encouraged by this, giggling as he runs his tongue along the thick shaft in his mouth, grazing the skin ever-so-slightly with his teeth as he pulls back.

"Mmm, Richter... you're so close..." The blond whispers, staring up at him, wet lips curled into a smile. Part of Richter wants to kiss him - regardless of where his mouth had just been - because that look in those deep green eyes is unimaginably cute. Another part of him wants to smash the kid back down into his lap, because  _damn it_ , it's just too much for him to bear! So close,  _so close_  and the boy just  _stopped!_  Yet another part of Richter - a shred of what he might call "sanity" - wants to strangle the teen on the spot; the boy was a damn succubus, taunting him at night, tainting his mind with these twisted fantasies that should  _never_  be fulfilled. Emil is an enemy, an obstacle, interfering in his plans to revive Aster! He should hate this boy! And yet, he doesn't... he can't... Try as he might, Richter cannot bring himself to hate Emil... All he can do is hate himself for the way he feels, the way he just sits back and lets these dreams pan out.

"Don't hold back, okay?" The young human grins. "I want you to enjoy this..." The blond licks his lips and bows his head, taking in Richter's throbbing manhood once more. The redhead falls deeper into the abyss of pleasure as the boy sucks harder and harder, running his tongue across the length of his member, teasing the slit at the tip... The half-elf curls his fingers tighter and tighter into the youth's blond hair, quickly losing all control. His eyes clench shut as he feels the blond draw his length all the way in, the head buried deep in the younger male's throat, throbbing, aching for release. The blond swallows around the swollen member, and Richter can't hold on any longer...

The half-elf jolts awake, sticky with sweat, heart pounding, chest heaving, and the most  _painful_  hard-on he's ever had is demanding his attention. He stares down at his lap, the thin sheets drape over the bulge of his manhood. The redhead lets out an exasperated sigh. He supposes there's only one way to fix this kind of problem... He reaches down, grabs himself firmly, and begins. He tries to think of Emil in the kinkiest, dirtiest possible scenarios: a quickie in a bathroom stall, skinny-dipping in the ocean, on a lambskin rug in front of a roaring fire, on the lab tables at Sybak, in an asylum...

With every mental image, Richter finds himself unable to stifle the mewls and gasps aroused. In his own little world, with his harem of Emils, Richter chases his release. He thrusts awkwardly into the warmth of his hand, so absorbed in his fantasies that he doesn't realize his moans have found themselves a word - a name - to repeat. The echoes in the dark room are haunting yet compelling. "Emil... Oh, Emil..."

Richter can't help but love the way it sounds. Emil, beautiful Emil. Bashful, tittering, gentle, kind, perfectly wonderful Emil...

The doorknob turns with a click. The redhead freezes, like a deer caught in headlights, as the door creaks open, revealing the green-eyed youth from his fantasies. The blond's eyes widen; Richter's do, too. Two jaws drop. The redhead slowly releases himself, tucks himself away in his boxers again, and tries desperately to wake up from this absurd dream. Only it isn't a dream.

The blond blinks, takes a few steps back, and quietly shuts the door. The redhead grits his teeth and curses. Of all the inconvenient moments for the boy to walk in... How the hell  _did_  he just walk right in, anyway?! The half-elf stomps over to the door and examines the lock to find that it's broken. Terrific. The redhead digs his nails into his scalp, tugging the crimson strands of his hair, letting out a frustrated growl.

 _Fuuuuuuck... How the_ hell _did this happen?!_  The half-elf wonders as he paces the room.  _The kid doesn't_ knock _, or_ announce himself _? Was he raised in a_ barn _?! And he walks like a_ cat _! That boy needs a bell around his neck or_ something _, for crying out loud!_  The floorboards creak as the redhead continues to pace furiously.  _And, damn it all, who just_ barges _in to somebody's room in the middle of the night?! And what kind of crap inn doesn't have proper locks on it's doors?!_  Richter tromps over to the bed, thumping down on the mattress irately. He mutters crossly, blaming every possible cause of this mishap. Finally, he runs out of things to curse at, and lays down, staring up at the ceiling.

He lets it all sink in. Emil had just seen him doing something very, very private. Something he shouldn't have seen.  _Something he shouldn't have been_ able _to see..._  The half-elf thinks gloomily. He buries his face in the palms of his hands, trying to rub away the guilt he feels as he thinks about  _why_  all this had happened.  _I shouldn't have given in to those feelings._  Richter thinks, rolling onto his side and curling into a ball.  _This happened because I_ let _it happen... I betrayed Aster... I betrayed myself... I betrayed Emil. I gave into the temptation. Even if it was 'harmless' fantasy, it wasn't right... What have I done?_  Richter balls up even more, interlocking his fingers behind his neck, rocking back and forth, as though he expected some form of divine wrath.  _I'm sorry, Aster... I'm sorry I'm so weak..._

The redhead flinches when he hears a faint click, then sits abruptly upright when he realizes it's the sound of a door knob -  _his_  door's knob - being turned again. He tenses, anxious, and a bit apprehensive, as the door opens slowly.

Emil is back. The blond shyly totters in, wringing his hands nervously and barely making eye-contact.  _He must be here about what he saw... and_ heard _..._  Richter grimaces. He wonders how he should explain that to Emil, if he should just be frank with him or not. He wants to just lie and say Emil had imagined it, or that it wasn't what it looked like. And yet, at the same time, he wants to tell Emil the truth, how he's  _wanted_  him for weeks now... But the blond wouldn't like that, would he? He was with Marta... surely Emil had no interest in men, much less one like himself... Richter sighed, supposing he should just pick the deceitful route; that would just be easiest, for everyone...

"Emil... I... What you saw earlier... that was just..." Richter sighs, trying to make the words come out, with absolutely no success. An awkward silence invades, and the redhead fidgets, hating himself for being so inarticulate at a time like this "That door doesn't lock." The half-elf blurts abortively, pointing at the entrance to the room, as if there was some other threshold he could have been talking about...

"Oh..." The blond blushes, rocking back and forth on his heels. "I see." He walks up to the half-elf's bed, still looking at him indirectly. The boy hesitantly seats himself near the foot of the bed beside Richter, glancing up at the redhead every few seconds.

"I didn't know, and I'm... sorry you had to see...  _that_..." The older male crosses his legs nervously. Just having the boy so  _close_  is doing things to him...

"R-Richter...?" The blond whispers, almost too quiet for Richter to hear. "You... you were saying my name..."

The half-elf stiffens. "I, uh, n-no... you must have misheard..."  _This is bad, very bad._  Richter begins sweating.  _I can't let myself fall for him, not again... In my mind was bad enough, but doing this... No! I can't! This is a trap! If I fall for this... for_ him _... I'll_ never _escape..._

"Oh, really? Then... what were you saying?" Emil probes, but Richter can tell... the boy knows... he  _knows_...

"I was, uh... saying..." Richter's words stick in his dry throat. He tries to think of something, tries to make his excuse, but he can't think, can't speak, because the blond is moving closer...

"Richter..." Emil whimpers, stroking one of the redhead's thighs gently. "It's okay..." The boy tilts his head up, finally meeting the older male's gaze. His eyes are soft, so soft. Richter quivers, a pulse of heat shooting through him.

 _No, no, please, no! I can't! Not this, please, no! I can't fall in love with this boy!_  Richter's stomach knots. He tries to look away, to think of Aster, to remember why he's even on his journey. He tries to think of Ratatosk, of how much he hates him, and how much he wants to kill that brat Marta who carries his core. He tries to think about Sybak and science, about books he's read, but all he can think is  _Emil, Emil, Emil..._

"Richter." The redhead shudders, hearing his name in such a voice... filled with pain, desire; an almost anguished tone that turns his guts to ice. "I'm here... Richter..."

Richter feels his stomach clench, his intestines constrict, and his chest implode as two warm arms wrap around him, smooth and supple, soft against his scarred and tender skin. Tears sting in his eyes and his throat burns, as if he'd swallowed fire. That head on his chest, those arms across his back... It feels exactly as it had in all his dreams.

He can't keep himself from trembling as he brings his arms up, hesitantly, finally wrapping the boy in his shaky limbs. He holds the boy tight, tighter,  _tighter still!_  He can't possibly hold the blond tightly enough to satisfy the ache in his heart. But he tries, he tries, and it's enough just to try... It feels like hours, days, months,  _years_ , before the younger male finally releases him, and Richter - reluctantly - releases the boy as well. The blond smiles sympathetically, wiping the tears from the redhead's cheeks. That touch... is almost more than he can bare...

A fresh wave of salty dew builds up in the corners of his eyes, spilling over, running down the damp skin that the young human has just caressed. Emil shakes his head and leans in, lips parting slowly, greeting a pair that are chapped, trembling, and so, so grateful. Their kiss is brief, but it does it's job. Richter's tears pour out, seemingly all at once, then subside, replaced by a small, almost  _shy_  smile, when Emil retreats from the chaste kiss.

The young man returns the gesture, taking Richter by the hand... Though confused, the redhead follows willingly as Emil guides him out of the room, down the hall, to another... The boy brings Richter inside, shuts the door, and locks it with a satisfying click.

Before Richter can react, the blond forces him up against the wall, stuffs the key into his mouth, and kisses him blind. This kiss is passionate, wild, and deep... The boy's tongue is in his mouth, writhing expertly, quickly, so fast Richter can hardly keep up... Emil's hands are curling in his hair, tugging, pulling, and it's good, so good. The key tumbles around, changing mouths once, twice, thrice... it clacks against teeth, rolls across tongues, in a dizzying dance, coated with mixed saliva. But Richter doesn't care... the redhead strokes the human's back with one hand, cradling the blond's head in his other, kissing back as hard as he can. The blond's hands begin to wander, and Richter can't help but writhe as they travel down his frame. His breathing becomes ragged, he loses all sense of himself, only able to focus on those soft hands...

The next thing he knows one of them is on his crotch,  _right_  on his crotch... Every muscle spasms, contracts, and in the split second he has to think, he realizes...  _Oh, crap._ *Gulp* Richter swallows involuntarily, feeling the hard, metal key squish slowly down his throat. His eyes widen, his cheeks burn red, and his hands immediately go to his neck as he feels the key inching its way down. He tries to gag, but by now it's too late... He feels the key drop into his stomach moments later.

"What's the matter, Richter?" Emil coos, cocking one eyebrow as he pulls back from the flustered redhead.

Richter's blush grows several shades darker and he fidgets, wondering how he should explain his blunder. "I, uh...", the half-elf pauses, coughing nervously as he tries to maintain eye-contact with the boy. "I kind of... swallowed the key..." He looks away, blushing even more.

Emil looks slyly up at him as if he'd  _planned_  this... "Of course you did. I wanted you to." The little human strokes the half-elf's stomach lovingly. "Now, no one gets in or out of this room without  _your_  permission..."

Richter takes a deep breath, eyes widening, and he vaguely wonders how it's possible for his face to be heating up  _even more_... He nods slowly, unable to think coherently, let alone find words. The redhead lets the blond steer him over to the bed. The covers are slightly askew since the blond had been sleeping in it until recently. Emil gently pushes Richter down, caressing the tan skin of his bare chest as he crawls on top of the older male.

Richter watches, spellbound, as the boy stands over him. The blond reaches down, grabs the hem of his grey shirt, and slowly tugs the tank-top over his head. He casts the article of clothing aside, tousling his golden hair as his hands go to the waist of his sweat pants; nimble fingers undo the loose bow on the drawstring. He tugs at the elastic waistband, loosening the garment, before shimmying out of the warm sleepwear. The only things the boy is left wearing are his blue boxers and a shy smile.

Richter doesn't remember if he's even taken a breath since the boy caressed him down... It feels like he's underwater, drowning. The boy descends, slowly, softly, like mist on a lake, resting his head in the crook of Richter's neck, laying down upon him, like a butterfly resting on a rose. "I'm here, Richter..." He whispers, "You have me all to yourself... you can do whatever you want... Even if it's nothing at all..."

 _It's all too surreal..._  Richter thinks,  _This is just another wet dream._  He clamps his eyes shut and concentrates.  _Come on, wake up, wake up, Richter, wakeupwakeupwakeup..._ But the weight on his body doesn't leave, the breath in his ear still tickles, and the warmth in his groin just keeps increasing. He opens his eyes again, and looks down at the blond. He's just so peaceful, like he's waiting... That invitation plays again in Richter's memory... "...All to myself..." he whispers, "For whatever I want..."

"That's right." Emil nods against Richter's chest.

"What if... what if I want to leave?"

Emil gently rolls off of him. "Then, leave." He smiles sadly.

"And... if I want to stay?"

"You may."

"If I want... to keep you with me forever?"

"I'll never try to run."

"If I never want to see you again?"

"I'll leave for good..."

"Why?" Richter asks shakily, reaching out to hold the boy's hand.

"Because you taught me courage." The blond smiles. "Because of you, I'm finally brave enough... for this..." He captures the redhead by the mouth again, sweetly, gently, running his tongue along the man's quivering lower lip. "Nothing can repay the kindness you've shown me in the past. But I'll try my best... by giving you everything you want..."

"So... if I want  _this_...?" Richter cups the younger male's genitals with one hand, squeezing gently.

"I won't resist."

"What if I want you to?"

"Then I will..."

"And... if I want what  _you_  want?" Richter asks, probing indirectly, wondering if this really was what Emil wanted...

"Well, then you'll probably need this." Emil giggles as he pulls out a small container of petroleum jelly. Richter chokes back an astonished laugh. Emil always seemed like the shy, naive type; Richter would never have expected the boy to be so  _prepared_  for something like this... But the fact that he  _is_  prepared confirms, beyond a doubt, that he wants this just as badly as Richter does.

The redhead smiles, taking the container. "Alright... let's get you ready..." Richter tugs off the blond's boxers, then his own, before he unscrews the cap on the small container, gathering a bit of the gelatinous substance on his first three fingers. Easing his other hand under the younger male's back, Richter gives the boy a gentle lift. He makes sure to go slowly at first, carefully, not wanting to cause the blond any pain. He inserts his index finger, sliding it in and out, back and forth, gingerly, keeping an eye on the blond's expression at all times...

Though the boy does wince when the first digit slips inside him, a soft, encouraging smile is quick to take over. Richter can't help but notice how cute the boy looks... Naked... Completely innocent... The redhead leans in, joining lips with Emil's, kissing the boy fondly as he pushes a second finger into him. The boy shudders, but his arms wrap around the half-elf, kneading his back. Richter's throbbing member rests awkwardly against the inside of Emil's right thigh, and Richter can feel it every time the boy moves or shifts against him. But the light friction there is not enough, and all Richter can think about is how much faster he wishes this was going. He quickly crams a third finger in, swallowing the blond's moans as he thrusts the fingers faster and faster, starting to get impatient, because he's wanted this for so long, so goddamn long...

Still, he has enough restraint in him to keep things gentle, and he makes sure the blond is well lubricated before he removes his fingers. Emil hands him a small towel so he can wipe the excess off... The boy really  _has_  thought of everything... Richter scoops up a bit more of the oily lubricant, roughly applying it to his throbbing sex. He gives his length a few good strokes, making sure it's adequately coated before he wipes his hands again... they're a bit softer now, which he supposes Emil will like...

"So..." He eyes the young teen, who already looks thoroughly love-drunk from just this brief preparation. "You ready?" Emil nods, smiling. "Okay." The redhead gives the boy a quick peck on the lips, continuing to his jaw, neck, collarbone, leaving little butterfly kisses and he continues down the boy's chest... Finally, he grips the blond's hips, pressing himself against the teen's entrance. It takes all of Richter's self-control to go slowly, but he does... he manages... He can hear Emil breathing heavily as he slowly eases more and more of his length inside... It's hot and tight and so, so wonderful, even when he's only half-way in... It feels as good as - no,  _better_  than - it had in his dreams... Emil's breathing just gets louder and faster the deeper he goes. Part of him is worried that it might be too much for the kid to handle, but he knows that Emil would stop him if it really was unbearable... He keeps on pushing farther, until his entire length is inside... 

He lets out something between a moan and a grunt when he feels the boy tense around him. Emil looks a little uncomfortable, but he still manages to smile when Richter meets his gaze. Richter waits a few moments, letting the boy adjust. It's a pleasant silence between them while they wait, and Richter finds he doesn't mind the brief pause. Eventually the blond shifts slightly, letting out a quiet mewl before nodding, letting Richter know he's ready for more. The redhead pulls back slowly, and he feels the blond's arms wrap around him again... They're so smooth and soft against his skin... skin that rarely gets touched, skin he's wanted touched for so fucking long...

The redhead can't suppress a faint whimper... All this time, all this waiting, all this wanting, wishing, and wet-dreaming and now, finally, it was happening... But Emil doesn't let him lose himself in his thoughts of aimless gratitude for such fortuitous circumstances; he makes sure Richter knows this is happening for a reason. The blond's hands travel down the older male's frame, spawning shivers as he traces along the half-elf's spine. "Mmmm..." The half-elf hums as the boy's hands caress his lower back... It's a sensitive junction of many nerves. As a scientist, he knows this, and yet he still can't fathom why it should feel  _this_  good... Emil pushes, and Richter lets the boy guide him back inside, setting up the pace...

"F-feel... good...?" The blond manages to gasp, as Richter continues the slow, measured thrusts...

"You have  _no_  idea..." The older male whispers, letting his hands wander now... He runs a hand along the boy's smooth belly while the other rubs his thigh. Everything about the blond's body is flawless and soft...  Hot puffs of air brush against his face as he leans in closer. The boy's labored breaths are seductive in and of themselves; Richter is unsure  _how_  gasps can be so cute, but they are... He wants to hear more... The redhead reaches farther up the blond's torso, locating one of the teen's nipples. He grins fiendishly, giving the little knob a firm tweak, delighting in the noise this prompts. It's not quite a squeal, or a moan, or a mewl, but it's adorable nonetheless.

"R-Richter..." the blond half-giggles, half-moans. The half-elf twists the boy's nipple again, harder this time. "Ah!" The human flinches, digging his nails into Richter's hips, and the redhead shudders, feeling the nails break the skin. "S-sorry..." Emil stutters, simpering when he feels warm fluid ooze onto his fingertips.

"Nah... It's fine." Richter grunts, offering the boy an awkward smile. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"N-no." The human blushes. "You just... twisted a little harder than I was expecting... I'm okay."

"Good." Richter nods, bringing his other hand up, teasing both of the blond's nipples. "If I go too far, you can always let me know...", he rubs the hard nubs in concentric circles, smiling when the boy lets out a groan of pleasure. "Or you can just hurt me right back. I don't mind." The half-elf chuckles darkly, grabbing one of Emil's wrists, bringing the boy's hand to his mouth. He laps up the thin streaks of his own blood, smiling broadly. The boy nods, digging his nails deeper into the shallow wound on the older male's hip.

Richter knows he shouldn't enjoy pain as much as he does, but he just can't help himself. The way his sweat stings in his cuts just seems to amplify the signals of pleasure radiating from other parts of his body. He refocuses on the task at hand, vaguely aware that the blond is quieter now... A small part of him recognizes this as a good thing; after all, he wouldn't want to draw unnecessary attention, particularly from Marta, who was undoubtedly sleeping in a nearby room. On the other hand, he misses those mewls, and a deeper, carnal part of him wishes they had complete privacy, so he could hear every beautiful sound the boy could make at full volume. Still, he's satisfied with the suppressed gasps and muffled moans he receives when he begins thrusting faster.

He leans back a bit, adjusting his angle, when the muscles in his thighs begin to ache. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Richter thinks it's kind of funny that this should make him sore. This kind of movement really has no practical application in fighting, so it sort of makes sense that he's not used to this... He gets lost in this tangent, mind spitting out all sorts of crazy ideas, and the half-elf is only able to pull himself out of it when he catches himself pondering what kind of exercises and stretches would help facilitate this kind of activity.  _What the fuck am I thinking, really..._  The redhead scoffs and rolls his eyes, banishing such absurd thoughts in favor of focusing on Emil.

The boy's moans have gotten a bit louder now, and almost every one trails into a whisper laced with his name. Richter likes the way it sounds, coming from the teen... It almost sounds...  _natural_. The disyllabic word seems to fall effortlessly from the boy's soft lips, flowing as freely as water from a waterfall... Richter answers, moaning the blond's name, blissfully aware of how much  _nicer_  it is to have the blond there to answer him... especially with that face to accompany the mewls. The boy's eyes are half-lidded - though he seems to be struggling to keep them even half-open - and his cheeks and ears are both flushed a lovely shade of pink. His golden hair is splayed out on the pillow, matted down with sweat... in fact, every inch of the boy looks sopping wet, which Richter somehow finds alluring... Richter can't make out many details, though... Everything is a blur of colors and values unless he squints. It's dark in the room, and Richter's never been able to see much without his glasses... But he doesn't need to see well... what little he can make out in the quiet veil of darkness is enough to fuel fantasies for the rest of his life. He suddenly finds it funny that all his dreams had been in perfect focus, and begins to wonder if his mental-self was wearing glasses all those times... He shakes his head.  _Again with the tangents... my brain really is all over the place tonight... what the hell..._  Leaning back isn't helping much; there's still too much weight on his hips, and he's nowhere near an orgasm yet...

He changes positions again, leaning forward. This feels much better, and Richter begins thrusting with renewed energy. His arms snake their way under the boy, wrapping around him to hold him in a tight embrace. He crushes his lips against the blond's again, running fingers through the short tufts of golden hair. He tugs it, smirking when the boy grabs a fistful of his long, red hair and yanks it hard in return.  _He's starting to get the hang of this, now..._  Richter smirks, thrusting even faster.

He releases the blond's lips, catching his breath, letting the boy breathe as well. Shivers of pure pleasure run down his spine when the human's ragged, rasping breaths tickle his ears. Without warning, the boy lunges up and bites down on his earlobe, tugging it, licking it; Richter has to bite his lip just to avoid screaming as a spark of carnal bliss courses through him. It takes all his strength not to collapse on the boy. With every little nibble, synapses fire off, sending a tingling, tickling sensation down his neck to snap between his shoulder blades. He doesn't even have the chance to wonder why this should feel the way it does, because all at once, his brain cuts out, and all that's left of him is a body filled with lust and a throbbing appendage by which to satisfy his desires...

He thrusts in wild abandon; his prior measured pace is lost to haphazard, violent jerks. Nails rake across his back, spurring him on. Everything is hot and wet and pain and bliss and far too much for him to even process... He's had orgasms before... but  _nothing_  like this... Pressure builds up inside him, heat pools at his groin, his legs are quaking, his face feels submerged in liquid fire, and his back stings like lemon juice was rubbed into his raw skin... and it's so...  _fucking_... wonderful...

His hand darts down, grasping Emil's member, pumping spasmodically, out of pace with the other thrusting. He wants them to finish together... He grits his teeth, holding himself back for as long as he can... The boy beneath him tenses, back arching up off the bed, a strangled moan escapes his lips. "Ohhh... Richteeeeer...!" Hot, sticky, white fluid gushes out onto the half-elf's hand, splatters across his stomach, and he finally lets himself go.

With one last powerful thrust, the man buries his entire length inside the boy, emptying himself into his lover... All that pent-up sexual tension is finally gone... At last, sweet relief... "Ahhhh... Emil..." The redhead whispers, collapsing.

The aftermath is quiet, serene. The passionate heat dies down to a loving warmth, tired gasps calm to sighs of bliss, frantic heartbeats slow to a restful pace, and both males finally untangle themselves...

"Oh, Richter..." Emil mewls, curling up beside the older male. "That was...  _wonderful_..."

"Oh, yeah..." Richter smirks, stretching out on the small bed. "'Courage is the magic that turns dreams into reality...' I just never thought it would be  _your_  courage making  _my_ dreams come true..." The half-elf wraps one arm around the boy, kissing him gently, chastely.

"More like  _both_  of our dreams..." Emil smiled. "I'm... glad you were my first..."

Richter blushes, holding the boy a bit tighter. "Me too..." He curls up with the young teen, drinking in his scent. He flinches a bit when Emil strokes his back, feeling a twinge of pain when Emil's fingers rub against his raw skin.

"Oh... Sorry..." Emil winces sympathetically when he remembers the shallow scrapes and cuts he had inflicted.

"It's fine." Richter simpers, wishing the blond would just stop apologizing so much. "I told you it was okay, before..." Richter slowly sits up, a little amused by how disappointed Emil looks when he's forced to let go. The half-elf leans down and gives the boy a fleeting kiss. "I'll be right back... I'm just going to go take care of these..." He gestures to the little crescent shaped wounds on his hips where blood has started to coagulate.

The blond grins back sheepishly. "Alright... Hurry back..."

The half-elf nods and proceeds to the bathroom, turning on the light. He inspects his reflection in the mirror, grinning in mild amusement at his disheveled appearance. His hair is sticking up in frayed waves where Emil had wound his fingers through it, he's sweating heavily, and long trails of blood run down his thighs, starting to cake up. The redhead turns around and inspects his reverse reflection over his shoulder. His back is bright red with a few shallow cuts and bloody streaks where Emil had scratched a little harder. If it wasn't for the unfading smile on his lips, it might have looked more like he'd had a nasty accident with some rosebushes than a pleasant romp in the bedroom.

The half-elf shakes his head. He pokes his head out of the bathroom, smiling at Emil. "I think I'll just take a quick shower, actually... You... wouldn't care to join me, would you?" The blond perks up, nodding enthusiastically. "Alright, I'll get the water ready..." The redhead adjusts the taps until the water is pleasantly warm and steamy. "All set." Richter calls, and the boy eagerly skips into the bathroom, climbing into the tub behind Richter.

"Ooh." Emil winces again, now seeing Richter's wounds in better light. "Those look like they hurt..."

"Meh, they sting a little..." the red-haired male shrugs, standing under the showerhead and letting the hot water cleanse the scrapes. He keeps an eye on the water, watching the pink liquid swirl around the drain. It's oddly hypnotic.

"So, uh, R-Richter...?" The half-elf snaps back to full attention when the hears the blond address him.

"Yes? What is it?"

"W-was it... everything you'd hoped for?" The young human awkwardly attempts to embrace the redhead, but is unable to find an unblemished area that he thinks would be alright to touch. He finally settles for holding the man's hand. The gesture surprises Richter, but he thinks it's nice just the same.

" _Better..._ " Richter nods, gripping the boy's hand tightly.

"Th-that's... g-g-great..." Emil blushes.

Richter does the same, awkwardly averting his gaze. He notices the water has begun to run clear and supposes his wounds ought to be clean enough for a nice, long soak. He reaches for the stopper, dangling by a little chain over the faucet, and stuffs the rubber plug down into the drain, filling the tub with water.

He sits down with Emil, letting the blond rest his head upon his chest. The water wraps around them, filling gaps between them, caressing them with it's warmth. For the first time in a long time, Richter feels...  _happy_. It's such a little thing, really, an emotion that most people take for granted. But for Richter, this was a forgotten feeling, something he had lost about two years ago... It makes him want to cry, actually. It's like trying to work a muscle that's all but atrophied, he remembers how to use it, but it's been neglected so long, it hurts to even move an inch. But it's a good kind of hurt. He lets it invigorate him, lets this feeling fill him up with warmth to match the bath water's. He lets it soak into every pore, every crevasse of his heart. He feels like he might overflow at any moment; it's just too much, but he doesn't want to hold it in...

Richter embraces the boy, quietly, gently, just letting it all spill out. The tears sting as they first well up, that same soreness of neglect, but it's better with every passing wave. His face is already wet, so maybe Emil won't notice... The half-elf strokes the teen's wet hair, holding the boy's head against his chest, like he wants it to leave a mark, a bruise, a brand. He tries to breathe evenly, to keep his chest from betraying his tears, but the spasms quickly become impossible to suppress, and he's sobbing, silently, against the blond.

"Richter..." the little human reaches up, wiping the tears off of Richter's cheeks. "Please, don't cry..."

"I thought you said I could do whatever I want?" the redhead chuckles through a fresh wave of tears.

Emil smiles sadly. "I know, but... if you cry, then it's going to make me cry, too..."

Richter chuckles again, turning off the tap now that the tub is full. "Emotional blackmail won't work on me... if you start crying, I'll just have to stop you."

"Unless I... stop you first..." the blond whispers, tilting his head up, lips parting gently, pressing softly against Richter's. This time is not like the first time; it's not an immediate cure. If anything, it seems to make it worse. Richter trembles, tears streaming down his face, sprinkling onto Emil as they writhe together. The water undulates with them, lapping at the sides of the tub. The sound just makes Richter cry harder... water... has always had such a soothing, peaceful sound... His throat itches, suppressing wails, not of grief or frustration, but of gratitude after having finally found relief. It's like he's been waiting his whole life to find this peace, this tranquility. He's never felt like this before, and yet, he can't imagine feeling any other way. But trying to find words, to think, is like trying to set ice on fire. So he stops trying, and lets his emotions have their way with him. Deep kisses become shallow, brief, because he needs to breathe, he needs to sob, he needs to sigh, and moan, and mewl. The tight embrace becomes looser, flowing, dynamic, because he needs to shiver, to squirm, and twist.

Emil's words of comfort only draw more tears. "It's alright, Richter. I'm here..."

"I know..." the redhead gasps. "That's why I'm crying..."

Emil has long since begun spilling tears of his own. But Richter can tell the blond is crying out of sympathy and love... They are the most  _beautiful_  tears...

A pleasant silence drifts in when the tears have all been shed, and both leave lukewarm water for the beckoning of bed. Richter knows a simple healing arte would heal the shallow wounds on his hips, but he prefers to let the blond doctor him. The adhesive on the bandage makes him a bit itchy, but the way the boy's hands smooth down the edges, gently glancing across his flesh, is well worth the annoyance. A small part of Richter hopes the wounds will turn to scars, or get infected, because he wants to remember the nails digging in, he wants to remember this night, for as long as he possibly can.

Emil giggles and kisses the older male's back where directed; no bandage would have been big enough to cover the entire raw area, and Richter insists that this feels nicer anyway. The strangest sound soon interrupts the peaceful interaction...

*Gluuurgle* The half-elf flinches when his stomach makes the most peculiar noise - it's something between a groan and a gurgle, and far louder than any sound his stomach's made before. He blushes profusely when the blond sticks his head under his left arm, undoubtedly having heard the noise as well. His stomach lurches again, continuing to produce those unnatural sounds, and Richter's brain ties itself into knots trying to figure out just why and how this is happening.

The little human presses his ear up against Richter's skin, giggling as the action earns an embarrassed yelp from the redhead, followed by more loud gastric noises. "Sounds like your belly is enjoying that key..." the teen smiles up at Richter, rubbing his cheek against the older male's smooth tummy.

The redhead's eyes widen. He had nearly forgotten that little incident at the start of all this. He blushes slightly, looking down at his abdomen as he recalls what had happened. "Oh, so that's what that is... I forgot that I swallowed it..." Richter brushes his fingers against his throat, remembering the odd sensation of the key passing down. "That has to be one of the weirdest courtship gestures I've ever been on the receiving end of... What made you think of that, anyhow?"

"You said your door didn't lock." Emil shrugs. "That seemed to make you uncomfortable. I thought that maybe, if I gave you complete control of the situation, you'd feel more at ease..."

"So, dragging me to your room, locking us in, and making me swallow the key was your idea of giving me absolute control?" the half-elf smirks.

"It worked, didn't it?" the blond giggles.

"Yeah, I guess..." the redhead snorts, vaguely amused. "So... Where's the real key?" The teen's only response is a look of utter bewilderment. "You know, the actual key that opens the door?" Emil just cocks an eyebrow and places a hand over Richter's grumbling stomach. Richter shakes his head. "No, really." The little human stares him straight in the eyes, no hint of deception or facetiousness in his expression, and gently pats the older male's stomach. Richter's incredulous expression fades into a look of hollow disbelief. "...You're serious." The blond nods. "You  _seriously_  made me swallow the  _only_  key that opens that door?" The blond shrinks back at the hint of anger in the other's voice, but nods nonetheless. Richter's jaw drops.

"How crazy  _are_  you?!" the half-elf rakes his fingers through his hair irately, trying to suppress the urge to throw something across the room... like a lamp... or the blond. "Y-you were actually dumb enough to feed me the  _only_  key?!"

The blond shrinks away from him, looking meekly up at his angered partner. "I-I'm sorry..."

This triggers something in the redhead; it's not the usual anger at an unnecessary apology (which, frankly, might have sent him over the edge and caused him to strangle the poor boy on the spot). This apology is somehow different; there's a genuine quality to it that softens Richter's piercing glare immediately, makes him lower his arms, and calm his breathing. He sighs, a faint smile flickering across his face. "No... it's fine." Emil perks up a bit before Richter looks away, a slight sadness in his voice. "Emil..."

The boy cringes like a puppy that chewed up a shoe, knowing it was the wrong thing to do. "Y-yes...?"

"C'm'ere." The blond hesitates at first, but slowly crawls back to Richter's side. The man puts his arm around the teen's shoulders. "Listen, I'm not angry with you, but... you should think more about your actions. Locking yourself, or anyone else, in a room like this with no key is dangerous. What if there was an emergency? Like a fire? What would we do then?"

"Well, you could just break down the door..." Emil blushes up at him. There's an obvious hint of playful sycophancy in the statement, but there is also an overwhelming sense of confidence and hero-worship mixed in as well.

"Cute." Richter smirks. "But flattery won't win you any points, kid. What if I was unconscious, or otherwise incapable of breaking down the door?"

"Jump out the window." Emil gestures over his shoulder to the curtains, illuminated with a faint, blue, backlit glow of the moonlight trickling in through the window. It was certainly big enough, and conveniently placed, to make jumping out a simple task. Hauling a body out the window, however, was an entirely different matter...

"So you'd leave me here to burn? Nice..." Richter mutters with an obviously fake tone of offence.

"No. I'd need something to break the glass, first, after all." Emil giggles, teasing the older male.

"You really think you could lift me?" The redhead shoots back.

"Over my head, no. Enough to chuck you out that window, heck yeah." The blond puffs out his chest and sticks out his chin in a mock effort to look "macho".

The half-elf snickers. "Whatever you say, 'Screwball'..." He ruffles the kid's hair affectionately. "So... how about in a non-emergency situation? How were you planning on me leaving?"

"I wasn't." Emil wraps his arms around the man's waist, grinning.

"Come on, Emil. You know I'm going to have to leave sometime..." The blond's grip on his waist tightens, almost desperately.

"No. You don't ever have to leave."

"Emil..." Richter sighs, frustrated.

"No! I don't want you to go! Just stay here with me!" The blond looks up at him with watery eyes and a trembling lower lip.

Richter just smiles softly. "Hey, I didn't say I was going to leave  _now_ , okay?" He hugs the little human back. "But eventually, we're going to need to leave this room. Unless you want to starve to death." The blond shakes his head. "See? Now, come on, let's figure out a plan."

"You could just wait until it... y'know... 'comes out'?" Emil shrugs.

"First of all, eww." Richter smirks. "Second of all, gross." He pinches the blond's cheek. "Third of all, no." He snorts derisively. "And fourth of all, that could take at least a day."

"Well... then maybe you could throw up?"

"That's an idea..." The half-elf rubs his chin pensively. "Unfortunately, I've got a really weak gag reflex..." he simpers. "But, maybe..." The redhead gets up and walks back to the bathroom, checking the medicine cabinet. "Aha! Perfect." 

Emil creeps in behind him, blinking curiously at the little vial the older male had found in the first-aid kit. "What'd you find, Richter?"

"Syrup of Ipecac." He holds up the little bottle. "It's an emetic." The confused look he receives prompts Richter to explain what, exactly, an emetic is. "Basically, if I ingest this, it will cause me to vomit..."

"Really?" Emil examines the small phial. "I didn't know such a thing existed."

"There are various types of emetics, actually. Ipecac just happens to be the most commonly used. Emetics were originally developed as a treatment for accidentally ingested poisons... Now that activated carbon exists, though, emetics aren't recommended anymore. Still, in places where people don't have ready access to activated carbon, emetics are a good emergency treatment." The redhead uncorks the small glass tube and measures out the recommended dosage. 

"W-wait, you're going to do it  _now_?" Emil whimpers, sounding thoroughly disappointed.

Richter freezes, cocking an eyebrow. "Well,  _yeah_. Why?"

"Aww, do you  _have_  to?"

**Your turn, Readers!  How does Richter respond?**

***"Well, no, not necessarily..." he replies, shrugging. "Why do you ask?"

~~~"Well, it would be best to do it now, but..." the redhead rubs his chin, "Anytime within the next couple of hours would be fine, I guess."

^^^"Relax." The half-elf gives the blond a reassuring smile. "Like I said, it's not like I'm going to leave immediately..."


End file.
